


Ethereal

by TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Sam Winchester is beautiful okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 12:48:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22806133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite/pseuds/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite
Summary: A little something that's been bouncing around my brain. Edited by me.
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Reader
Kudos: 19





	Ethereal

You don’t often wake before Sam does so this morning is a nice change of pace.

Sam looks so peaceful when he sleeps. It’s cliche, you know, but it’s true. He carries the weight of the world on his shoulders all day, every day. The nights he sleeps peacefully are nights you cherish and mornings like this one, with him quiet and soft beside you, illuminated by the hallway light slipping through the grate in the door? Even better.

You scoot up on the bed a little, putting your face level with Sam’s. He stirs but doesn’t wake, burrowing a little deeper into his pillow. You smile, warmed from the inside out by that sight alone.

So soft.

One hand creeps up to brush back a lock of Sam’s hair that’s slipped down his forehead. You can’t stop yourself from letting your fingertips trail over the curve of his forehead, one brow, his temple. His skin is soft under your touch and his brows twitch together before relaxing again.

Your hand shifts lower, tracing the line of his cheekbone. It’s so difficult to describe Sam - his bone structure is delicate yet masculine, narrow and angular with fox-tilted eyes and high cheekbones and a wide nose that ends in a perfect point you love to kiss.

_Ethereal_, you decide after a moment of thought as your fingertips brush over his cupid’s bow.

He stirs again as your hand drifts to the line of his jaw, scruff rough against your skin. This time, though, his eyelids flutter open. It takes him a moment to focus on you and he smiles when he does.

“Whatcha doin’?” he asks, one hand creeping over to rest on your hip and draw you closer to him.

“Just looking,” you reply, gently stroking his cheek with the pad of your thumb as your legs tangle into his.

He sighs softly and turns his head to press a kiss to your palm. “See something you like?”

“See something I love.”

Sam nuzzles the inside of your wrist. “I love you, too.”


End file.
